The number 3 has been a magical number for me for my entire life. Good, bad, or weird things always happen to me in 3’s. I personally believe that you don’t have a true collection of tchotchkes unless you have three of them, and that 3 tacos are the perfect amount, and then there’s always been the trio of Heidi, Geri, and me.
We spent a couple/three years living together as a little family off and on during young Heidi’s early life, where Geri and I tailored our lives to meet Heidi’s needs at the time.
We took our job as aunties very seriously, and Geri and I talked often during that time about how to make a soft, safe space for them, no matter what else was going on outside of our little bubble.
I had a video camera, and I have hours and hours of incredible footage of us together. I just finished digitizing them not too long ago, and Heidi was able to look back at what that time together was like.
When Heidi was born, I was still filled to the brim with the grief of losing my mum so suddenly when I was 10, but when they arrived, I realized that my grief was in the way of bonding with this precious little nugget. I tapped into my mum’s parenting style to find my way. Mum was endlessly interested in my ideas, listened with curiosity and delight, and encouraged and nurtured my creativity by offering me safety to explore. But what I felt the most was unconditional love.
My grief from losing my Mum at 10 years old is still to this day always evolving, and what I’ve learned is that grief is not something you get over. There’s no time limit. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it’s choppy and overwhelming, but you can’t ignore it or stuff it down. You have to feel it all.
Heidi came out to visit immediately after my diagnosis, but I was on a full dose of dexamethasone, and it made me manic, plus I was in panic mode. I had only been out of the hospital a few days, and when I think back to their visit, I can barely remember. I even had Heidi and Geri tell me the chain of events from when they were here, and it’s just a blur.
Heidi came back for a second visit once things had mellowed out, and having them here was just what I needed.
We did what we normally do, which is talk about everything, eat good food, and laugh a lot.
Heidi and I went through my closet because I thought some of my shoes and clothing might fit them.
They said, “Auntie, none of these are going to fit me; we have radically different bodies,” but magically everything fit perfectly!
It’s like we’re frickin twins. Watching them try on things from my closet, look in the mirror, and do a little euphoric dance because they found stuff they liked was such a beautiful healing tonic for me. It brings tears to my eyes thinking of them walking around in my shoes, having adventures.
At one point, we were talking about some of the things we wanted to do before they left to go home, and they put their hand on my knee and said, “Auntie, you are doing too much.” It grounded me immediately. They were right. I always try and stuff as much fun into our visits as possible because our time is always so limited, and it helped me remember that this time, this moment, all we had to do was just be together, jibber-jabbing, talking about life and every single thought that bubbled into our brains, like we’ve done since they were a wee kidlet.
And then we decided to get matching tattoos. Ha ha ha.
Heidi, Geri, and I all got the number 3 tattooed on us, and I tried to tattoo Geri, but my brain gets overloaded so easily that concentrating on making a line was impossible, so I did three wiggly lines, I tapped out, and Geri finished for me.
Heidi is my baby, my twin, my best friend, and someone I very much admire as a human. Smart, capable, loving, grounded, and an excellent communicator. They are also the coolest person I know.
Being their auntie is the most rewarding and heart-expanding thing I’ve done in my life, and I’m so grateful I get to spend this little bit of extra time I’ve been gifted with my Heidi.
3… It’s the magic number.
There are also my friends and family (and internet friends like you) that simply accept the numerous changes and shifts in my life, rather than attempting to cage me in. 
The only downside so far is that because of my better boundaries around 
